Lemon Dance
by ParadiseAvenger
Summary: MOVED! Anything you want or imagine... any fantasy you have... any desire that wakes you in the night, panting and sweaty... can be found in the Dance of Lemons, but only for a price. A collection of one-shot citrus for AHIRU, FAKIR, MYTHO, and RUE. Cannon, fluff, AU. Requests welcome. MOVED!


So, at this point, everyone knows that I was forced to remove Lemon Island and its mature content due to the Eliminator Forum vicious attacking and trolling me. I'm going to move ALL my mature stories to a new website. If you're just as sick of this as I am, please join our cause to bring freedom back to Fanfiction!

**Avenger Forum link, remove spaces and *:** www. fanfiction. n*e*t /forum/Avenger/119079 (All information can be found in the Supporter forum.)

**The Rebellion Forum link, remove spaces and *:** www. fanfiction. n*e*t /forum/The-Rebellion/114259/ (Most forums are banding together here.)

**Petition for an MA rating link, remove spaces and *:** www. change. o*r*g /petitions/fanfiction-net-we-want-fanfiction-to-create-a-ma-rating

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Anyway, I have **MOVED** this story **COMPLETELY** to another site. You can find this **STORY** and all its subsequent **UPDATES **here: h*t*t*p*:/archiveofourown. o*r*g*/works/699534/chapters/1288463

I have the same penname there as I do here: ParadiseAvenger

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**Summary:** Princess Tutu returns the emotion of lust to Mytho.

X X X

"Won't you dance with me, Miss Bradamante (1)?" Princess Tutu asked, her hands circling in the gesture before offering out to the young girl who held a fragment of the prince's shattered heart. Unlike most, the girl did not hesitate. She immediately grasped Tutu's proffered hand and pulled the slim ballerina towards her.

Without music, the dance began immediately, without any of the usual hesitation or brokenness given off by the prince's borrowed emotion. The young woman's dace was sensual and unrestrained, without any of the technique or grace of ballet. Though Princess Tutu was used to dancing with others who were not ballerinas and was therefore used to leading the dance, she found it difficult to keep up with this girl's passionate dance. Finally, the exhaustingly fervent dance drew to an end.

Panting, the young woman slid to her knees, her head thrown back. From the area above her heart, a shower of ruby-red shards spilled forth. Between the spent Bradamante and Tutu, Prince Mytho's heart shard took a momentary physical form. He gazed at Tutu, smiling softly, and she held out her hands for him. Without further ado, the missing emotion poured himself into Tutu's hands and became a glistening ruby jewel. It was warm in Tutu's hand, beating faintly just like a real heart.

She smiled to herself. "I found another shard," she whispered happily. "I'll be able to return a little more of the prince's heart to him."

She heard footsteps behind her and turned, expecting to find Fakir standing grouchily behind her. He always seemed to appear the moment after she finished her dance to make one more attempt to stop her from restoring Mytho's heart. She sighed softly. One would have thought that by now Fakir would have learned that nothing would stop her, not even his brooding meanness or the threat of his sword. Tutu gracefully turned, the words to give him a piece of her mind burning on her lips.

But it was not Fakir who had approached.

It was Mytho, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Princess Tutu," he gasped out, drawing close enough that she could have reached out and touched him.

She opened her cupped palms, revealing the shard of his heart to sparkle in the faint moonlight filtering through the thin veil of clouds overhead. Shining brightly, the shard floated from her hands and dissolved within Mytho's body. He cupped his hands over his chest, his head dipping back in the same way Bradamante's had. His face was lined with pleasure, with happiness.

Tutu's smile widened. It seemed that she was finally able to return a good emotion to him. It seemed that since she had started this endeavor all she had been able to find were dark emotions and bad feelings—disappointment, loneliness, sorrow, regret… She was happy for Mytho.

She dipped into a small curtsey, her hands fluttering along the edge of her puffed tulle skirt. She said softly, "My Prince," before turning away. She didn't want to stay long enough to give grumpy Fakir time to show up and have a go at fighting her. Gracefully, she moved to depart.

Mytho's warm fingers caught her hand, tugging her gently back to face him. For one moment, his golden eyes seemed to fill up her entire world. Breathless, Tutu could only stare into his gaze, her heart pounding behind the cage of her ribs. The prince was so close to her. His body was so warm, his hands were so gentle, his eyes… they were… Could that emotion be… love? She lost all the breath in her lungs as if someone had simply stolen it from her.

Then, with shocking suddenness, Mytho dipped his chin and kissed her. A gasp escaped Tutu's lips, her mouth opening slightly so that his tongue could slip in. Again, she gasped, only granting him further access. He dipped her body low, almost as if they were dancing a _pas de deux._ His hands supported the small of her back and she allowed her body to go limp in his grasp. She trusted the prince and he trusted her completely, enough that he trusted her with his very heart.

Tutu's fingers threaded through his pale hair, one hand gripping his shoulder, as he continued to kiss her. His tongue was nearly expert, impatient, teasing hers until she allowed herself to let go and really kiss him. It seemed as if he was never going to break the kiss, as if he was going to devour her completely from her lips down to her toes. Their tongues tangled, danced, and their breath panted out in sync. Slowly, Mytho knelt, lowering Tutu's body to the cool cobblestones of the street.

She shivered at the chill on her naked back and he warmed her with another heated passion-filled kiss. Tutu wrapped her arms around his back, clinging to him tightly. He nudged her knees apart and slipped his thin body between her parted thighs. After a moment of hesitation, unsure of what he was doing, she wrapped her legs around his hips if just to pull him closer as her arms were doing. His lips pulled from hers and she almost protested until, hot and loud, his breath tickled the shell of her ear.

She gasped, shuddering at the strange sensation. His teeth gently nipped her earlobe, making her gasp anew, and then pulled the tender appendage into his mouth. He suckled lightly, soothing the pinch he had inflicted on her. A soft weak shivering sound escaped her mouth, thrumming deep in her chest, and she pulled him closer, turning her head to give him greater access. Mytho's mouth moved from her ear to the side of her neck where he lavished the same heated attention on her racing pulse.

Another breathy little sound escaped Tutu. Her blood was coursing with heat not unlike what she had felt while dancing that wild dance with Bradamante. Except this time, the heat pooled in her lower belly and seemed to take a physical form there. Why did she feel so empty, so warm, so wet? Then, Mytho rocked his hips against that hot empty aching place and Tutu threw her head back, gasping loudly. Again, he pushed against her, rubbing, while his mouth still burned at the hollow of her throat.

He pulled back a little, whispering, "Does that feel good, Tutu?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

X X X

And I removed the original mature content that continued from that point due to the trolls. Please join the cause to bring maturity to Fanfiction again. Or read this story and all its updates in its original version on Archive of Our Own.


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